Freaky: That unfamiliar feeling of hunting success

I'm in a bit of a freaky situation right now: I've been incredibly successful on five out of my past seven hunts.

I've gotten three limits of ducks - the most limits I've ever gotten in one season. I got six ducks hunting alone one day, the most I've ever gotten solo. I've shot a limit with just 15 shells, and six of those ducks required only one shot apiece - my best shooting ever. I've gotten my first double, and my first Scotch double (two with one shot - very thrifty!). I've felt so blessed with full straps that on one hunt, I handed over six ducks to a hunting partner - a form of generosity that comes only with the supreme confidence that I can get more ducks later.

All of this success leaves me feeling quite confused and concerned. Read more...
I am so accustomed to not shooting well that I fear this string of successes is a fluke that will end shortly (probably within 24 hours, now that I'm actually writing about it).

But what if it continues? What will I have to write about if I'm not frustrated and foiled at every turn in the field? I can't think of anything more boring than a hunting blog about perpetual success. That would lack dramatic tension and come off as boastful. Gag.

Every once in a while, though, this thought penetrates the swirling fog of neurosis and self-doubt: Maybe I'm just getting good at this.

Not that I'll never have a bad day again - streaks of poor shooting happen to everyone. And a streak of shooting this good may remain rare. But for the past four years, I've been striving to be a better shot and a smarter hunter, and I'm thinking maybe it's starting to work.

For the first time, I feel like I have really good news for all the new hunters I work with: It's OK if you're not great now. It's OK if your first few seasons leave you spending more time buying ammunition than plucking ducks. It's OK if you miss a lot. Why? Because eventually, your hard work will pay off.

But there are two words in that sentence that are vital: hard work.

I've spent a lot of time lately trying to dissect my success. Why is it happening now? What I've come up with is this:


Practice. Gun fit. Twelve gauge. I listed these in order of importance, but let's take it from the other direction:

The 12 gauge: I switched from a 20 gauge to a 12 gauge this year knowing that using the larger shell puts more shot in the air, which can increase my odds of success. That may be contributing to my success, but I know a 12 gauge alone isn't enough to do the trick.

Gun fit: Gun fit is huge. Some people are blessed with physiques that work well with shotguns as they are made, but not me. I shoot left-handed and have a long neck and high cheekbones, which makes gun fit tough for me. When I got my 12 gauge Beretta 3901 (I call her Sarah Connor), I ended up buying an adjustable-comb stock, which allows me to move the comb of the stock really far to the left while keeping the butt where it needs to be to hit my shoulder correctly.

If I had tried to use this gun as-is when I got it, I'd be failing miserably, because I'd never be able to get my face in the right position on the stock.

Practice: This one, I believe, is truly the most important. If you've ever read anything about success or mastery, you'll see declarations that it takes six to ten years, or 10,000 hours, of practice to get really good at something. This is the logic behind the apprentice-journeyman-master stages of many crafts.

I've been hunting for slightly more than four years now, and I've been passionate about it from the start. I hunt - especially ducks - at virtually every opportunity I find. And when there's nothing to hunt, I'm constantly looking for people to go shoot skeet with me. When my gun range, the Cordova Shooting Center, got a sweet voice-activated system for shooting skeet solo this year, that allowed me to go whenever I wanted, no partner needed.

This year, I cranked up my shooting activity to its highest level ever: I shot skeet with my new shotgun a LOT this summer, more than ever before. Come Sept. 1, I went dove hunting at every opportunity, not just once or twice as in previous years (with much gratitude to my friend Bill Templin, who graciously shared his primo spot with me). I've gone duck hunting at least once a week since the season started, and during school breaks when I can endure the sleep deprivation, I've gone hunting two or three times a week.

It's all adding up now. I've had enough successful shooting that my brain and muscles are capable of doing what's necessary without requiring conscious thought on my part - consistently, not just occasionally. Thank God. I really wondered if the day would ever come (and if you don't believe me, check out my first blog post).

New hunters, I'm here to tell you it can happen!

Of course, like I said, the fact that I'm writing this post almost certainly means I will get a mighty and humiliating smackdown, and probably very soon.

But unlike all the other smackdowns I have endured in my previous four years of hunting, I now know that I'm capable of doing well. Shooting poorly in the future won't mean I'm hopeless, as I have feared for so long now; it will simply mean I'm having a bad day.

And besides, it'll give me something to write about.

© Holly A. Heyser 2010